NoRegretsColeNC Page 9
Clutching the rod, he lumbered down the stairs again. His mother stood waiting, a cup of tea and a plate of cookies in hand.
“Stay with me, William, please?”
He nodded and knew what he must do He’d make it up to Hattie. For all he knew, she might even have forgotten about their plans to go fishing at the creek. “I’ll stay tonight, Mother.” He set the rod aside, enfolded the woman in his big arms, and let her weep upon his shoulder. “Give me a little time. I’m getting my life together, and I’ll find a way to take care of us both.”
And Hattie, too. Willie choked on a rush of emotion surging through him, reluctant to make promises he wasn’t certain he could keep, and afraid to dream of a future that might never come.
* * * *
Hattie came to the dinner table late that evening hoping her red-rimmed eyes wouldn’t give her away. Both the doctor and his wife were already seated, enjoying the cool summer soup the cook had prepared. The aroma of fresh tomatoes and sweet corn tickled Hattie’s nose, but she didn’t have much appetite.
“Glad you’ve decided to join us.” Charlotte’s razor-like voice cut straight through the sultry evening air. “You do know, of course, that your presence at meals is expected. One might think you ungrateful if you choose not to break bread with us.”
“I fell asleep earlier. I meant to take only a short nap. I must have been more tired than I thought.”
“Are we working you too hard, Hattie Mae?” Abner looked up from his soup. “Nursing is a demanding profession. If you’re finding it physically exhausting during your training, you might wish to rethink the future. The workload is only going to increase as you learn more and as more folks come to the hospital for care.”
Hattie knew a lot of the townsfolk still weren’t comfortable with the idea of going to see a physician in a clinical setting. Doctors were supposed to call on the sick and frail, not expect them to be transported to some strange office with foul medicinal smells.
His wife picked up her napkin and dabbed it to her chin, wiping away traces of broth and a few crumbs of bread. “I’m not so sure it is a physical problem, Abner. From what I’m seeing, I suspect it’s more likely a case of emotional distress. Unless she learns to keep her feelings on a tighter leash, she’ll buckle under the pressure, and sooner rather than later,” she said, turning to Hattie as she spoke the last few words. “Or maybe it’s got nothing to do with nursing at all.” She carefully set her napkin to the side of her bowl. “Could it be, perhaps, that Miss Hattie is falling in love?”
“Where would you get an idea like that?” The notion was so preposterous she couldn’t help but laugh. As she began to relax, her appetite returned. “Would you pass the soup, please, Mrs. Kellerman? It looks delicious.”
Charlotte picked up the tureen. “I got the idea from seeing you mope around all day, and don’t say you haven’t been. It’s a sure sign of love-sickness, and most likely I can guess who’s caused it.”
“Thank you.” Grasping the soup ladle tightly, Hattie filled a small serving bowl. She chose to ignore the remarks. True, she had been moping about a good portion of the day, but falling love? Heaven forbid! Love was not in her plans, now or for the future. That didn’t mean, however, that she couldn’t enjoy a man’s company or appreciate a friendship with a member of the opposite sex.
“It’s Willie Morse who’s got you in a tither, and don’t deny it.” Charlotte returned the tureen to its place and sighed. “What’s he done to upset you so?”
“Nothing, really.”
“He’s obviously done something.”
Across the table, Dr. Kellerman cleared his throat, then got to his feet. “I think I’ll leave the two of you to your women-talk. I’ll be on the porch enjoying a cigar if you need to find me.”
He walked away with brisk steps, obviously wanting to put a safe distance between himself and any emotional scenes.
Alone now, his wife turned her full attention to Hattie. “As I was saying, Willie’s obviously done something to put you in this wretched state. You’ve been crying, and that’s a worrisome sign.”
Hattie put down her soup spoon, placing it carefully to the side of the bowl. She folded her hands in her lap. “It’s really nothing. A misunderstanding, I suppose. He talked about coming to call later today. Maybe I got my hopes up a bit.” She managed a smile. “I do enjoy his company, and I don’t see anything wrong with that. He’s been a perfect gentleman.”
“Willie Morse?” Charlotte laughed and shook her head. “He’s anything but perfect, and he’s definitely no gentleman. He’s a brute, Hattie.”
“He’s been through some difficult times, I’ve heard.” She still wished she knew more about the last few months of Willie’s life. “Whatever it is that happened—”
Charlotte put up a hand. “He’s using it all as an excuse, Hattie. Aren’t you clever enough to see that?”
“I don’t even know what it is he’s been through. But I want to know, Mrs. Kellerman. If I knew, I could be a better friend to him. I’d know how to help him. That’s all I want to do.” Her passionate speech must have convinced the woman. “Won’t you please tell me?”
“All right, but I don’t see that it really makes much difference. Sure, he’s been through some rough times, but even before it all happened, he was a brute, and a bully, every bit as arrogant and pompous as his father.”
“His father is a judge, isn’t he?”
“He was,” Charlotte replied. “Not any longer. His corruption was exposed a few months back. He’d gotten involved in a scheme to steal a fortune in gold. It all went sour, and in the end, Willie shot a man, and—”
“Willie?” Hattie frowned. “I thought you were talking about his father.” Her mind raced. Had parent and son both been involved in some illegal activities?
“Willie found out about his father’s involvement. He thought he could save his father’s reputation if he got rid of his cohort.” The woman leaned back. “It’s a long story, Hattie.”
“Tell me everything, please.”
Hattie listened at rapt attention as Mrs. Kellerman spun an incredible tale of greed, corruption, a search for buried gold, a killer set free, and a young man’s desperate attempt to salvage something from the mess. Willie had shot a man—John Brooks—in an attempt to protect his father and keep his secrets.
Instead, the awful truth of the matter had come out. Evil always came to light, Charlotte pointed out, and lies could not remain hidden for long.
“That’s why his father disappeared.” Hattie was beginning to sense the reasons behind Willie’s despair.
“He would have ended up in prison had he been caught, and believe me, that’s not a place anyone wants to be.” Charlotte lowered her gaze. “I suppose you’ve heard about my own incarceration?”
Hattie knew her eyes went wide. “No, I haven’t heard anything, but it’s all right. I don’t want to know.” She clapped her hands over her ears, fearful of any more unhappy news entering. She’d already learned that both Abner and Charlotte had once been drunken sots, and that Charlotte had made her way in life by selling herself. Hattie couldn’t bear to hear more. She quickly picked up her napkin and rose. “Thank you for taking time to talk to me.”
“I suppose I should have spoken to you about Willie sooner. I’m not one who likes telling tales, Hattie. I just hope you’ve got the good sense to see that he’s not the sort of man you want to get involved with. You’re seeing him not as he is, but as you want him to be.”
“I’m trying to help him, Mrs. Kellerman. I think it’s important that he see his strengths.”
“What I’m trying to say is that he’s not who you think he is, and if you get involved, you’ll be sorry. Mark my words, you’ll come to regret it.”
She shook her head. “I have to do what I believe is right.”
Charlotte’s gaze softened. Her blue eyes looked sad. “Help him. Be his friend. But save your heart until the right man comes along. It’s not Willie M
orse. Not by a long shot.”
Chapter Seven
As the buggy rolled over the muddy roads the next morning on the way to church, Hattie peered up at the still-clouded skies with despair. Her heart felt as heavy and gray as the heavens. The rains had finally come during the night, accompanied by violent claps of thunder and brilliant bolts of lightning that made sleep all but impossible.
Throughout those long, dark hours between dusk and dawn, she’d thought of little else but Willie, wondering again why he hadn’t returned as promised. Reliability, in her estimation, counted as one of the most important—and most necessary—aspects of a man’s character.
Had she misjudged Willie, after all? Could Mrs. Kellerman actually be right about him?
The thought that her own growing interest in the man might make her blind to his faults disturbed her. From here out, she would keep her eyes wide open and face up to whatever truths she saw, even the most painful ones.
The buggy jostled onward, splashing through puddles as the smartly-matched pair of bays kept their slow but steady pace.
“We’ll be late, Abner. I told you we should have gotten an earlier start.” Charlotte’s eyelids were heavy, too. She must not have slept much better than Hattie.
“Being late to church isn’t a capital offense, my dear.” The doctor patted his wife’s hand. “I remember a time when you couldn’t be forced to even set foot in a house of worship, and now here you are complaining if we aren’t in our seats before the first hymn is sung.” He laughed.
“Things change,” she reminded him. “People change.”
“That’s right. Love does work wonders, doesn’t it?”
Hattie noticed the way Abner squeezed Charlotte’s hand, the love between the couple quite obvious. She wondered if she would ever find such true devotion in her own life.
Love had never been high on her list of priorities. Instead of setting her sights on marriage, Hattie had planned a much different life for herself. She would serve others. She would help, in some small way, to make the world a better place.
Meeting Willie had caused her to rethink her future. Maybe she would like to someday have a home and family. A real family.
Hattie quickly pushed aside thoughts of her own childhood as hoof beats sounded from behind her. She whirled around, breaking into a huge smile as she saw Willie chasing after the buggy. Mud splattered as the big chestnut he rode closed the distance.
“Wait up, Dr. Kellerman!” Her heart raced. “Please, it’s Willie.” In that moment, she didn’t care about Charlotte’s judgmental look. She deliberately forgot the woman’s stern counsel about getting involved with a brute. People did change. Charlotte and Abner themselves were testimony to the power of love.
Not that Hattie was falling in love. At least, not in that silly, romantic way that left school girls giggling and fair maidens blushing. To Hattie, love was more like the sunshine that was just beginning to break through the gloom. It was warmth and light. It touched the earth, made the larks sing, the eagles soar, and the rivers run to the sea. Love kissed the grasses and the gardens, and Hattie’s own heart burst into bloom. She loved the world itself in all its beauty.
Thank goodness the doctor pulled the buggy to a halt, allowing Willie to catch up. Charlotte, of course, scolded him, squawking like the noisy jays hopping through the still-wet leaves of a nearby boxelder tree.
“We’ll get there, dear,” he reminded her. “Stop fretting.”
Willie doffed his cap, bid a good morning to the older couple, then riveted his attention on Hattie.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it back yesterday.” When he spoke, his eyes held a peculiar sadness. “My mother asked me to stay with her. I couldn’t refuse her.”
“No, of course not.” Her heart suddenly felt too big for her body. After all the crazy thoughts she’d entertained—worries that perhaps he’d been involved in another mishap, concerns that he’d lied about coming back, irrational beliefs that he might have purposefully tried to hurt her—the truth, so plain and simple, nearly brought tears of joy. “It was good of you to stay,” she assured him.
“I do want to take you fishing, Hattie Mae.” With slow, awkward motions, he swung down from the saddle. Riding had no doubt tired him. His leg, of course, was still weak. He limped as he approached the buggy. “Will you go with me?” He held out a hand.
“Now?” She looked at him, looked at Abner, looked at Charlotte. Hattie wasn’t sure if she was asking permission, asserting her rights to answer on her own, or if she was just confused by the young man’s unexpected arrival.
“No better time.” He grinned. “The morning’s rain will make the fish bite.”
“Then I suppose we should go right away.” Hattie stirred. “If you’ll let me out, please, Dr. Kellerman?” Her voice faded slightly at the end as she caught Charlotte’s disapproving glance.
“We’re on our way to church, Hattie Mae. That’s where you need to be this morning.”
Hattie didn’t back down. “I’m not going this morning. I think I’d much rather go fishing with Willie. It is my day off. I should be free to spend it as I choose.”
She climbed down from the buggy, amused to see the somewhat shocked expression on Willie’s face. He’d apparently expected her to meekly accede to Charlotte Kellerman’s insistent demands.
“You’ll regret this,” the woman warned. “It’s not wise to anger the Lord.”
Hattie sucked in a breath. “I don’t think the Lord will consign me to hell for missing one sermon. Goodness knows, Reverend Gilman tends to repeat himself a lot, so I’ve probably already heard most of what he’ll be speaking about.”
“Hattie Mae Richards, you should be ashamed of yourself for talking that way.”
“Yes, I probably should be, but I’m not. I’m being honest, and I’ve been told that it’s never wrong to speak the truth.” She lifted her chin, then nodded toward Dr. Kellerman and his wife. “Enjoy the services this morning. Give Reverend Gilman my regards. You can assure him I’ll be in the pews next week.” Hattie waved and watched as the buggy rolled away.
Willie grinned at her. Obviously, her little outburst had caught him by surprise, as well. Still, nobody could be more surprised by it than Hattie herself. Most shocking of all, she’d found it refreshing to speak her mind and not concern herself with what others thought.
Perhaps she should do that more often, she resolved.
* * * *
Hattie sat close behind Willie, loving how it felt to put her arms around him and hold on as they rode the short distance back to the livery. He’d been there earlier, he told her. He’d returned the wagon he’d rented for his trip to Denver, and planned to hire a smaller one from Josiah for their fishing expedition.
“When I saw Dr. Kellerman’s buggy go by, I knew I had to hurry. I, uh, borrowed this horse,” he said with a grin.
“That explains why we’re riding bareback.” She laughed to picture Willie stealing the horse. “Oh, dear, you’ve committed a very serious crime. I hope Josiah hasn’t already called the sheriff on you. I’d hate to see you swinging from the gallows.”
“Would you mourn me, Miss Hattie Mae? Would you visit my grave? Would you shed a tear for me?”
She puckered her lips and pretended to be deep in thought. Finally, she nodded. “Probably so. At least for a day or two.”
How delightful to laugh, to be so cheerful, and to feel so much at ease. Growing up, she’d always been painfully shy. More than once she’d been scolded for it, reminded that nobody wanted a sourpuss who never smiled, nobody wanted a timid little mouse too afraid to speak up.
As she slid down from the horse’s back, then watched while Willie explained the situation to Josiah, she held on to the wondrous, exciting new feeling that somebody enjoyed her company, someone liked being around her. Enough to even steal a horse!
She remained quiet during their wagon ride out to the old creek. Willie kept up a constant conversation, talking enough for both of
them. Hattie hung onto every word, hoping to glean as much information as possible about him and the difficulties he’d been through. Now that Charlotte had told her about the troubles, Hattie understood Willie even more. But hearing it from the doctor’s wife wasn’t the same as hearing it from Willie himself.
His conversation, however, although interesting and witty, touched on nothing personal.
When they reached the creek, he graciously helped her down from the wagon, then gathered up the fishing supplies he’d brought. He’d parked beneath a shady tree, about twenty yards from the water’s edge.
Hattie stayed close, determined not to offer support unless he asked—or unless the short walk proved more than he could handle. When he straightened his shoulders and began putting one foot in front of the other, a slight sigh escaped from her lips. But why should she feel disappointed that he didn’t need her assistance?
You don’t need a man’s touch. Only wanton women yearn for such things.
Forcing a smile to her face, Hattie turned to gaze out toward the creek. “I do hope the fishing is good today. I’m quite eager to see how it’s done.”
“I can’t believe you’ve never been fishing before.” He grinned. “I thought everyone learned to fish as a kid. It’s like a ritual, a part of growing up.”
“I didn’t have a very conventional upbringing,” she said, immediately regretting it and hoping he’d pry no further. She never liked to talk about her childhood, not that being raised in a foundling home was cause for embarrassment, but sometimes it made for awkward conversations. People with real families to look after them simply couldn’t understand all the thoughts and feelings orphans had. They couldn’t understand that nagging sense of loss that never went away. In hopes of turning Willie’s attention away from her, she quickly changed the subject. “Now that the rain’s gone, it’s quite a lovely day, don’t you think?”